TO THE FIELDS

After their walk, the family returned to their courtyard home, where the morning sun now cast long shadows across the dirt path. The familiar scent of woodsmoke drifted from the kitchen hearth as her mother began preparations for the mid-day meal, the gentle clatter of well-worn clay pots and iron woks echoing through the courtyard.

Her father retrieved his wide-brimmed bamboo hat and farming tools, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched Li Hao struggle to lift a smaller hoe.

"Careful there, little warrior," he chuckled, gently taking the tool from his son's determined grasp. "Perhaps start with something lighter? Here—" He handed each child a small basket for gathering herbs that grew along the terrace edges.

"But Bàba, I want to help with the real work!" Li Hao protested, puffing out his chest.

Li Wei, ever the mediator, patted his brother's shoulder. "Herbs are important too. Remember what Māmā said about the healing properties?"

Their father nodded approvingly as he gestured for them to follow. Their farmland stretched across three terraced levels carved into the gentler slopes below their home, about a li's distance away. The carefully maintained rice paddies glittered like mirrors in the morning light, while plots of wheat and millet swayed gently in the mountain breeze.

From their vantage point, Li Hua could see the village nestled in the valley below, about five li from their fields. Thin wisps of smoke rose from cooking fires, and she could see the patchwork of small vegetable gardens and animal pens surrounding the cluster of earthen homes. Chickens pecked at the ground near woven bamboo coops, while goats grazed in fenced areas beside modest pig sties. The dirt path that connected their home to the village wound like a brown ribbon through the terraced hillside, occasionally disappearing behind groves of bamboo and ancient fruit trees.

As they made their way down the well-worn dirt path leading to their fields, farmers in neighboring plots called out greetings, their voices carrying clearly in the cool mountain air. Some were already knee-deep in the flooded paddies, their conical hats bobbing as they tended to the young rice shoots.

"Li Ming!" An elderly man walked over, his weather-beaten face creasing into a smile.

Li Hua's sharp eyes studied the approaching man. Her borrowed body's memories flickered - this must be Village Chief He, whom she'd only seen once when her mother had taken her to the village to purchase meat. He moved with the measured pace of someone who had spent decades working the land, his sun-darkened skin and calloused hands testament to his years of labor. Despite his advanced age, he stood straight-backed and proud, his gray hair neatly tied back in the traditional style.

"Village Chief He!" Her father called out with an easy smile, giving a casual yet respectful bow.

"I didn't think you were coming, late start at home today?" The old man asked, his keen eyes noting their family's unusually late arrival at the fields. His voice carried the particular drawl common to the village elders, each word measured and unhurried.

"Ah, yes. I mentioned to your wife yesterday that the children are growing too fast and I wanted to spend more time teaching them. So, I'll be spending less time farming," her father explained, a warm smile playing on his lips as he ruffled Li Hao's hair.

"Mmmm, yes. She did say that yesterday." The village chief stroked his wispy beard thoughtfully before his gaze shifted to the children. His weathered face softened as he studied Li Hua and her brothers, though his next words carried a hint of traditional expectations. "But the children look quite capable. Why don't you have the wife take care of it?"

"Ah, village chief how can you say that? Perhaps my daughter would be fine just learning from her mother, but I have sons as well. You wouldn't allow your wife to teach your sons the deeper aspects of cultivation, would you?" Her father's tone remained respectful but carried an unmistakable firmness.

Li Hua noticed how his hand settled protectively on her shoulder, and she felt a surge of warmth at his words. In these times, when most rural families still clung to ancient beliefs that valued sons over daughters, her father stood apart. Based on this body's memories, she knew that while her father loved all his children equally, he often showed even more attention to her development.

The village chief's bushy eyebrows rose slightly, but there was a glimmer of something like approval in his eyes.

"You're right, Li Ming. Times are changing, and perhaps our ways should too. Your children are good looking and quite intelligent, they'll do well to learn from you." The village chief's smile carried the wisdom of age as he stroked his beard thoughtfully.

Her father laughed lightly, "Thank you, village chief."

The village chief nodded with satisfaction, his weathered face creasing into a gentle smile. "Well, I should return to my fields. The morning won't wait for idle chat." With a final acknowledging nod to her father, he turned and made his way back down the path, his straight-backed figure soon disappearing among the terraced fields.

As the old man's figure faded from view, her father got down on one knee and placed his hands on both of Li Hua's shoulders. "Little Poppy, don't take anything from that conversation seriously, ok? You and your brothers are my pride and joy. I don't want you to think that bàba prefers boys over girls - it's just that we must adapt to the environment we are in. Bàba thinks very highly of women, just like your mother and the women you will grow to become. You will never have to be subjected to being in the kitchen or doing wifely duties unless you choose to. Do you hear?"

Li Hua nodded, meeting her father's gentle gaze. "Bàba, I understand."

With a gentle squeeze, he pulled Li Hua into his arms, "I love you so much. All of you." He reached out and pulled her brothers into his embrace.

"We love you too," her brothers responded in unison, while she leaned into her father's warmth, softly adding, "you too."

She had never said I love you to anyone in her previous life. It felt strange that she also wanted to say it, but she couldn't bring herself to form the words completely. The phrase felt foreign on her tongue, like a sweet candy that dissolved too quickly to savor. Even though these past days had brought unprecedented warmth to her cold and empty heart, a stark contrast to her previous life, an uncomfortable truth lingered - this family wasn't hers.

The moment this thought crystallized in her mind, a sudden pang of pain hit her like sharp knives. Her head throbbed as if she was being torn apart from the inside out, memories of her past life crashing through her mind like violent waves.

"Little Poppy? Hua'er? Hua'er!" Her father's voice faded as the pain intensified, becoming distant echoes in the storm of her consciousness.